Bunk Mates
by Milady of the Valley
Summary: When Duval does some major recruiting, the musketeers are forced to share rooms. D'Artagnan jumps at the chance to spend more time with Jacqueline, much to her dismay.
1. Haunting the Streets of Paris

BUNK MATES

CHAPTER ONE: Haunting the Streets of Paris

The streets of Paris were as empty as the beginning of a western. Although no billowing hay or rushing winds served as the setting, there was definitely the feeling of serenity, yet mystery. But just as the westerns do, the story of the young musketeers has to start sometime. As the sun began to rise slowly on the horizon, quiet footsteps could be heard throughout the garrison halls. They were awakening to the new day, tired and hungry. Four of the captain's favourites started their morning rituals of dressing and sparring before their routine morning trip to the café across the way.

Jacques LePont, one of the strangest and undeniably the "prettiest" musketeer grinned slyly at his comrade as he pinned him up against the courtyard wall with the tip of his sword. D'Artagnan, his partner for this match, took the defeat as he always did…as soon as Jacques had backed far enough away from him to leave room to move, the sneaky musketeer pushed his sword away and made a thrusting movement with his own towards Jacques' throat. LePont, just as stubborn as his opponent, reacted in a similar fashion. These matches always ended up like this between the two. The other musketeers were used to it and many rose earlier each morning to secure a spot to watch the two at work.

Siroc and Ramon stood watching their friends lash out at one another. They knew that the two were just practicing but many times the fighting seemed so real that they had to remind themselves and each other periodically of that fact. Siroc, the logical musketeer as he was fondly known by his friends, studied their strategies and jotted down the plays for his own use later on. He loved to make notes on almost any topic under the sun and would not rest until he had perfected any task set out before him. He proved theories, built inventions he created himself and found ways to help his brothers-in-arms out of unfortunate situations. He was obviously the smartest and most patient of the bunch but never would admit it himself.

Ramon's stomach began to growl as he watched the battle continue as it did every morning. He was starting to think that waiting to eat breakfast was a bad idea. His stomach never seemed to be full and he was constantly stuffing himself with chicken and coffee at the Café Nouveau. Hearing the upsetting sound of a disgruntled organ, Ramon left the party alone in search of some scraps before breakfast.

When Jacques and d'Artagnan finally admitted the end of their duel, they found Siroc and Ramon and the four friends walked down the streets of Paris towards Ramon's one true love: food. They laughed at thoughts of the festivities the night before but grew solemn at the mention of the Cardinal and his men. There had been a street fair the previous day and a poetry reading took place at dusk. The red-clad soldiers had decidedly consumed too much of the House Special and were more than slightly intoxicated by the end of the night. When a verbal confrontation broke out between them and a few civilians, the musketeers stepped in and some of them were badly wounded. Siroc and Ramon managed to escape without a scratch and d'Artagnan and Jacques were only a little battered. Many of the Cardinal's Guard were not so fortunate. Two men were brought to the doctor's house for broken wrists or minor stab wounds to the shoulder and feet.

Many had said that he match could have been avoided but others were not as sure. Parisians were immensely aware of the mutual hatred between the two groups of men but few had any idea why. What had been meant as a day of fun and celebration had turned into a horrible display of slashing swords and thumping fists. The streets of Paris were momentarily transformed into a wrestling rink and became forever haunted with those memories.

Nobody had meant for it to happen. Nobody usually does. But it took place nonetheless and everybody was at fault. Everyone was to blame. It was just too bad that the guards didn't see it that way. As always, Cardinal Mazarin found a way to clear his men of their crimes and pin it all on the musketeers who dutifully admitted their part in the charade.

Whatever the reason, the musketeers had found themselves in yet another precarious position due to the Cardinal's power with the young King Louis. But once again, the king cleared the charges set against his beloved musketeers. As much as he trusted Mazarin's advice and decisions, however wrong they may be, he could never find fault in the musketeers. He was just like a small boy playing with his lead army men. He couldn't find fault in something he owned. He enjoyed setting tasks and praising his toys, his men, his musketeers. The musketeers knew that, for now at least, Mazarin did not have the complete power that he yearned for and that, at least, was a comforting thought. As the masquerading religious figure strived towards his malicious goals, the blue-and-grey clad men strived towards ridding France of the evil it held. An evil that never seemed to rest. Not even within the garrison itself.

_Author's note: Hope you liked the first chapter. I know it was a little slow. I just wanted to familiarize you with some of the characters and introduce them to any new readers. I am off to figure out a topic for the next chapter now. Unfortunately, I cannot give you any sneak previews this time as I have no idea what is going to come next. I don't write the characters, they write themselves and so we'll all just have to wait and see what comes up next. I will, however, promise to add in the ever-sought-after love story of d'Artagnan and Jacqueline and maybe even find some new characters to spark an interest in Ramon and Siroc. Hope you enjoyed it so far! Please review and send some ideas if you have any! I love feedback almost as much as I love this show…ALMOST. I've received some great reviews for my previous story so I hope you like this just as much, if not more!!!!!_


	2. A Message From a Higher Rank

CHAPTER TWO: A Message from a Higher Rank

The four friends pushed back the café doors with a short creak. The rotting wood still hadn't been replaced. It was a sound that was as familiar to them as their own voices. Throughout the years they had each lived in Paris, this sound had grown quite accustomed to them and they had grown to love it – well, at least to tolerate it.

They took their regular positions at the back of the room so they could spot any trouble before it happened. This was another thing that they never thought about any more. It was simply second nature to them. From their perch they could see the counter where the barmaids worked, the doors they had just come through and the other tables in the café.

Jacques looked around at his friends. He hadn't been with the musketeers for long but he had grown to love these three men very much and knowing that there would always be a barrier between them hurt him. Jacques had a secret he couldn't share with anyone. He was a she. Jacqueline Roget, a fugitive of the law, had escaped to the garrison with no place else to run. She had a partner in this, though. The man who sat across from her now. D'Artagnan was as loyal as friends went and he made sure that no harm came to Jacqueline while she worked alongside him. He also made sure that no one else would ever discover her secret.

D'Artagnan looked at her now and, seeing Jacqueline returning the gaze, he smiled. And, oh, what a wonderful smile it was. Jacqueline looked away again, not trusting her face, for it had betrayed her feelings before.

"So, what would you four brave young men like for breakfast?" It was the waitress. Darlene had served them every morning that week and she felt obliged to sweeten up to the musketeers every time. It was obvious that she liked the thought of soldiers and it was just as obvious that some of the men liked it, too. Ramon smiled at Darlene and ordered his food while his friends waited their turn. After a good two or three minutes Ramon settled back into his chair and the other three ordered a quick coffee and continue their morning conversations.

"Sirocco tells me that we're gaining a lot of information on last week's case. Apparently the widow wasn't widowed after all. Her husband was living in the barn, hiding from the town so that the king would allow his wife the money they needed to move from Paris. They were planning on escaping to the Americas." At the mention of that particular place, d'Artagnan looked over at their female companion. Ramon didn't know that he had spoken of the place that was forever in Jacqueline's mind. Her brother had moved there to escape the Cardinal's tyranny. Just like his sister, Gerard was wanted by Mazarin, but he had successfully escaped and Jacqueline always wondered how he was doing out there. It wasn't safe for him to contact her in Paris so she hadn't heard from him since the day he had left he in d'Artagnan's care.

Once again, Jacqueline met his gaze and once again she quickly looked away. Ramon went on with his tale until the food arrived. He never spoke when there was food about. It had nothing to do with manners, however. The truth was that he simply did not want to interrupt the heavenly feeling of chewing the food he loved. He was only halfway through his plate of sausages when a messenger rushed through the doors. The creaking was louder this time and the musketeers looked up quickly. They watched him search the room for a moment then, spotting the four men, he hurried over to them to deliver his message.

"Urgent message for…_huff_…Privates LePont, d'Artagnan…_huff_…Siroc and Ramon." The young man was tired and out of breath, they made room for him at their booth and he graciously accepted the goblet of water Jacques offered before he continued. "Captain Duval of the Royal Musketeer Garrison of Paris has requested…oops, _demanded_…" the four friends nodded; that sounded more like the captain. "…that the four of you join him at the barracks right away. He has the rest of the men assembled and ready." Jacques and Siroc exchanged looks. "Ready for what?"

"He didn't say." And with that, the boy disappeared through the doors once more, which wobbled slightly with the force they had endured moments before.

The men quickly grabbed their jackets and, after a desiring look and a heavy sigh over his food from Ramon, they hurried out the door to see what the captain was up to now. As the garrison came into view, it was obvious to the men that every one of their brothers-in-arms had gathered out in the courtyard for Duval's message. They could see the sea of blue-and-grey uniforms even before they entered the gate. Captain Duval stood before the crowd, looking anxious. When he spotted the new arrivals, he clapped his hands together and began his speech.

"Men, I have some news for you. Many of you know that the musketeers have been in short demand lately. I have been working to resolve this issue for some time now. This morning, one of my contacts in Belledale informed me that their garrison would be closing. Many of the men there are looking for new situations and, since we are looking for new recruits, I have graciously accepted to house them here. You will, therefore, be meeting many new faces in the next week. In fact, there will be twenty new men joining us. Now, since we do not have enough room for them all, I ask that some of you give up your room and bunk with a fellow musketeer. And, since I know that no one will volunteer willingly, I have taken it upon myself to make up the assignments. Some of you are unable to share bunks, such as Siroc over here, and I understand that. I have planned around all the obstacles and have your rooms here on this chart." The crowd leaned in as one to get a glimpse of the ragged paper Duval held up. It was obvious that he had gone to a lot of work. The page was blotted, smudged and had things crossed out all over the place. D'Artagnan found his name next to that of Private Johnson. That wasn't too bad. Craig Johnson was a new recruit, having only enlisted a month earlier. He was a good lad and admired the experienced musketeer. He looked around for him but saw only Jacques, who had squeezed in beside him. He knew by the look on her face that she was unhappy with her assignment. He found her name on the list and understood immediately. She was partnered with Reme Aromonde. Reme was known to figure out everyone's business, whether they liked it or not. In fact, Reme had only one friend at the garrison: squeaky clean Craig. He was the only person that did not care what anyone found out abut because he had nothing to hide.

"Don't worry, Jacques, I'll handle it." D'Artagnan put his hand on her shoulder before quickly going in search of Craig. He found him, by God's grace, with Reme not a few feet away. The two smiled as he approached.

"God morning, men." D'Artagnan said. They replied cheerfully, Craig because of his admiration, Reme because he had just discovered that one of the other men was in trouble with Duval.

"Hello, d'Artagnan. So I see we are to be paired off!" Craig looked up at him, still smiling. "Yes, I saw that. In fact, that is exactly why I am here now. I am happy with the situation, of course, but I feel that it may not be fair to you. I see by your expression that you are unaware of my meaning. I will explain. You see, the two of you are usually the last to rise in the morning. That is not a bad thing, of course, but, as you are well aware by now, my friend Jacques and I are up before the sun every day. We feel that it will interfere with your sleeping habits if the accommodations remain as they are. Seeing that my friend and I are paired with the two of you, I see no reason why it should be difficult for us to swap bunk mates. The two of you together, and myself with Jacques." When Craig looked about to debate this, d'Artagnan used the boy's admiration against him. "We can keep them as they are if you want, but it would truly make me happy to know we are not disturbing you each morning." Craig couldn't refuse him then. He wanted to do everything in his power to make sure the older musketeer was happy with his work and with him. "Alright, d'Artagnan, we are agreed." He looked over at Reme who shrugged and went in search of someone in a compromising situation to nag. D'Artagnan clapped Craig on the back, thanked him again, and went to tell Jacqueline the good news.

_Author's Note: I am sitting here enjoying a delicious chocolate/chocolate-chip muffin right now and, since I don't plan on leaving it or my computer any time soon, I will continue on with my story. Hope you like it so far. Reviews are always appreciated!_


	3. Moving In

CHAPTER THREE: Moving In

Jacqueline was not impressed with d'Artagnan's excitement over the new situation but she figured it was better that the alternative. She would room with him over Reme any day. The last thing she needed was to wake up every morning, fearing she had spoken in her sleep or that her false beard had fallen off sometime during the night. No, it was better she stayed with d'Artagnan.

She was sitting at a table in the front hall when a voice spoke quite closely into her left ear. "So, Roomie, what shall we do tonight? I have a few games in mind." She spun around and almost met his head full on with hers. She looked up for a moment, dazed at the almost-collision and then addressed him as usual. "D'Artagnan, I wouldn't play a game alone with you if you were the last man on earth." He thought about that for a moment and then smiled devilishly. "Well, then. Lucky for us there are plenty more men on this planet. So, what would you like to play?" Jacqueline let out a huge sigh and pushed past him into her room. This would be the first night she was to share it with someone else and she wanted to cherish the last moments she had alone. Thankfully, d'Artagnan knew when to leave her to herself and did not follow. She could always count on him to understand that she needed to be alone sometimes. And anyway, this wasn't his room yet. Moving in wouldn't happen for a few more hours. They were getting some tradesmen in to help them carry the trunks and beds in later that day. The new bunks hadn't even arrived yet so Jacqueline was safe for now at least.

After thirty minutes of thinking and day-dreaming, Jacqueline emerged from her room in search of her friends. She didn't have to look for long, however. They were always in Siroc's lab at this time of day. None of them had patrols that day so Siroc had found another invention to try his hand at. This time, he was trying to capture an image on a scrap of parchment – without much luck. He still couldn't fix the light to his needs. Ramon and d'Artagnan sat across the room from the inventor, leaving enough room between them to avoid the results from any explosions that may occur. But they were used to it by now and didn't want to leave Siroc by himself. They would all rather be in the lab than off arguing with Bernard and the other guards anyhow.

Jacqueline took a seat next to Ramon and spoke quietly so as not to disturb the master at work. "What's he doing this time?" Ramon smiled at his comrade and announced, "He's using candlelight instead of natural light to reflect the rays into his wooden box." He had obviously taken part of something Siroc had said and added his own theory in there as well. He had no idea what he was saying; that part was obvious to Jacqueline. "Nothing's blown up, I see." Jacqueline said to d'Artagnan, ignoring Ramon's ignorance on the subject of Siroc's current project. Her new bunk-mate laughed and she noticed a small sparkle in his eyes that had been there all morning. She could tell that he was still pleased with the outcome of the morning's events. She decided to ignore him and turned instead to Siroc who was pouring some kind of liquid substance over the parchment in front of him.

"So Siroc, you must be happy that you were passed over for rooming accommodations. You're lucky to have your own room." She shot a meaningful glance at d'Artagnan before she continued. "I mean, you don't have to worry about anything getting broken or any of your inventions going missing. Plus, you have everything all to yourself." Siroc smiled but did not respond. He knew he was lucky the captain understood that he needed his space to conduct his experiments. He was one of the few men at the garrison that had not been placed with another. Ramon had been just as lucky. He figured that the captain just respected his need for privacy too, but his friends believed the captain simply felt sorry for any man who had to put up with Ramon's snoring, not to mention the stock of stinky cheese he had not-so-well hidden away in his chest. No, any poor fool who shared a room with that man was bound to leave the musketeers or at least the Paris barracks after only a few short days.

Afternoon crept up on the men at the garrison that day. Visiting blacksmiths and ranchers came in to help unload each room and move everything into their new accommodations. Jacqueline sat on her bed as d'Artagnan's trunks were carried in and set precariously in the corner of the room. She stayed there until everything was in its new place, including the bed frame that was sent over from the craftsman down the street. She couldn't help mourning the loss of her getaway. She loved her solitude but it seemed like she was doomed to lose privacy altogether as a musketeer. She had to live with it, though. There was no alternative. If she asked for her own room, she'd need a good excuse. Besides, it was better that d'Artagnan was her new bunkmate than any of the rest of the men. At least she wouldn't have to be Jacques LePont even in her sleep. She knew that she was lucky that he had found a way to save her from being exposed but she couldn't help the feeling of sadness she had in her heart. The last place she had all to herself was gone. The last place she had that wasn't taken over by men. The last place she had without d'Artagnan.

But by the time night rolled around, she realized once more how close she had been to sharing a room with someone who could potentially lead to her demise and her dismissal from the musketeers. Not to mention the death of both Jacques LePont and Jacqueline Roget.

D'Artagnan came in as she was pulling out her night clothes and went over to his own bed. "The captain's sent us all to our rooms. I think he wants us to be fully awake for the arrivals tomorrow morning. I'll be up anyway but if he thinks I'm carrying one more trunk…" he trailed off when he saw Jacqueline. She had taken the knot from her hair and, despite the musketeer uniform she still donned, she looked gorgeous. He had seen her in a dress before, without her Jacques LePont guise, but he still found himself in awe each time. He realized he was gaping and quickly turned to his own trunk. Jacqueline paused for a moment and then retreated behind her dressing screen. D'Artagnan resisted the urge to peak as he had once before and turned instead to his own screen to get ready for bed. She was finished before he was and was already beneath her sheets when he came to his own bed. He felt a twinge of disappointment bubble up inside of him at not being faster, but decided there would be many more opportunities to come. He settled in and then turned on his side to face her across the room.

Even with her face turned away from him, Jacqueline could feel d'Artagnan's eyes on the back of her head. After a few moments, she finally turned over and found him looking, as she had predicted, right at her. She found his gaze overwhelming and was turning away again when his words stopped her. "Jacqueline, wait." She looked back at him and he continued. "Look, I know you're not happy with the situation we're in but I really think we should talk about it. You can't avoid me forever. Especially now." Jacqueline knew that she had been evading the discussion of room assignments all day but she hadn't realized that d'Artagnan was aware of it. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Before she could say anything, d'Artagnan spoke again. "I'm sorry we're forced to share rooms like this but there's nothing we can do about it. I just want you to know that all you have to do is ask and I'll leave you by yourself. I know you like to escape from all these men sometimes. I can't blame you. So just let me know whenever you feel like getting away from us…from me." That last part was said in such a way that made Jacqueline feel as though her heart were breaking. She didn't know why, but she felt like she should say something so he wouldn't feel upset. But, just as before, he piped up before she could. "Or…you could always kill me in my sleep. That would solve many problems for you. You could use the rat poison I have in my trunk. That way it'll look like a natural death. Just don't let Siroc examine my body." The mock-seriousness in his tone made her laugh and d'Artagnan was satisfied that he had completed the task he had set for himself that night. It was quiet for a long time and d'Artagnan figured that Jacqueline had fallen asleep. She though the same, but when she called his name he turned and responded.

"There is no way I'm getting to sleep now," she said. "I mean, it's still light out. I know you said the captain wants everyone to be ready for the morning, but this is ridiculous." He laughed and pulled back his sheets, revealing a perfectly-sculpted bare upper body. He got up and walked slowly and soundlessly towards her. Suddenly, Jacqueline felt her pulse in her arms and her heart at her throat. What had she done? She didn't want him this close to her…did she?

Before she could answer herself, d'Artagnan had seized her hands and was pulling her over to the table by the window. He pulled up two chairs and they sat together. She let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding and felt herself relax. She should have known that his intentions were honourable. Despite the things that he always seemed to say to her, d'Artagnan always treated her with the respect she deserved as a woman. She looked at him now and decided that he rather liked the way the moonlight lit up his masculine features. He felt her gaze but said nothing. She always recoiled when she knew he caught her looking at him. He wanted her to watch him and, even though he loved the way her face turned rosy when she blushed, he didn't want to say anything to make her stop. Not now. She always did everything in her power to make herself refuse him. He saw that and liked her all the more for it. No, he loved her. He looked at her now with the silver of the moon in her eyes and decided that she needed to know how he felt. He opened his mouth to speak to her but the words wouldn't come. She seemed to understand that he was having trouble and took it upon herself to act. It was just like one of those dreams that are so close to reality but are still far enough to recognize as what they are. He wanted so much to have her for his own and, though she had never admitted it to him before, she felt the same. She nodded to him and he felt his stomach flip excitedly. That one movement meant all the world to him. He inched closer to her and she felt drawn to him. D'Artagnan whispered her name softly and she smiled. That was all it took. He pulled her closer to him and at once Jacqueline's lips were on his. He was overwhelmed with emotions. Her lips were warm on his and he smelled a fait scent of flowers, as though she was wearing perfume but trying to hide it at the same time. Jacqueline felt his smile on her lips and found herself returning the gesture. He put his hands on her cheeks and held her face away from him so he could marvel at her beauty. He ran a hand through her raven locks and pulled her to him once more. She shivered at the sudden breeze that came through the slightly-open window but the warmth of his body overpowered it just as quickly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he pulled her onto his lap. "I love you, Jacqueline." He whispered onto her lips and she smiled again. She knew that she loved him, too, and decided that nothing in the world could ever change that. She was where she belonged: in d'Artagnan's arms at last.

_Author's Note: So, I hope you're liking it so far. This took me a while to write but I wanted to create the scene so that I kept Jacqueline and d'Artagnan in character but also so that I could make them say what all of us fans have been wanting them to since the first episode. The next chapter will be a little dramatic, so be prepared. Please review. I want to know what you think…_


	4. New Arrivals

CHAPTER FOUR: New Arrivals

The captain was searching every room for late sleepers the next morning. Jacqueline has risen earlier than usual and found herself still on d'Artagnan's lap by the windown where they had both fallen aslpeep the night before. She was already dressed and drilling out in the courtyard when d'Artagnan woke up. His lips felt swollen and he smiled to himself, thinking about the night's events. He had finally told Jacqueline the truth and she hadn't laughed or pushed him away. Inteda, he discovered taht she had felt the smae. She no longer denied him and he was glad that the charade was over. He dressed quickly and then went outside to watch his love.

When the carriages finally arrived, tghere were many grumbling and bloodshot-eyed musketeers waiting to greet them. Everything seemed a blur for the two soldiers who had finally let another person into their hearts. Jacqueline never though that she could let anyone else inside her heart after the death of her family and d'Artagnan had never loved anyone but himself until she came along. They lifted and carried and loaded and unloaded long into the afternoon, but neither thought about the work. Their minds were far away, in a place where flowers bloom and love never dies.

When everything was said and done, the musketeers retreated to the common room for dinner and wine and games of cards. By bthe time the sun began to set, all the men were dizzy with the alcohol they had consumed. Their speech became rough and they got rowdier with every goblet they emptied. Jacqueline was disgusted by the display and surprised to see d'Artagnan partaking in it. He winked at her whjen no one else was looking and she felt herself grow emptier each time he acted as the others did. This was not like him. As it did a lot of the time, her womanly intuition was warning her of danger. She looked away from d'Artagnan, afraid to see him as he was at the moment. Instead, she decided to spend her time sober with Siroc, who was still trying to figure out how to capture the light. After a while she grew bored and decided to get some air outside, unaware that she was being followed. She leaned against the wooden gate and looked out at the street. The sun was barely still in the sky and the soft colours of pink and orange dangled overhead. She heard a sound behind her, but figured it was just another man coming out to empty his stomach in the flowerbed. Already, the sour stench of preconsumed beverages hung in the air and Jacqueline held her masculine handkerchief up to her nose.

Suddenly, a large hand came up and met roughly with her backside. Jacqueline let out an indignant sound and turned around. d'Artagnan was grinning wolfishly at her and eyeing her up and down. "What have they done to you?" she sobbed, feeling her eyes fill up. She wouldn't let herself cry in front of him, though. Any other day she would have been yelling at him or they would be fighting. But last night he had said he loved her. She thought that he had finally become the man she wanted him to be. She felt herself falling more deeply in love with the man she had become close to. And now he was acting like the new recruits: arrogant, selfish and greedy. He had a look in his eyes that scared Jacqueline. He was a different person now and she was frightened. He made a move to come closer to her but she stepped away. He knit his brown and tried again, still not saying a word. She moved further away frmo him and the smile left his face. He was getting annoyed; she could see that now. She tried to tell him that the others may see but he didn't seem to care. He rounded on her and she had to use all of her strenghth to push him away. Still, he would not give up. She raised her arm and punched him, giving herself a chance to escape. She rushed back into the garrison without looking to see if he was following. Siroc saw her come in and noticed that she was a little flushed.

"Areyou alright, Jacques? I didn't think you'd had anything to drink." He studied her carefully. She tried to smile. "Nothing, just a little chilly outside." Siroc's expression changed to one of startled concern and Jacqueline knew that d'Artagnan had re-entered the room. Siroc looked back at herbut she turned away. She had never told him about her secret but sometimes wondered if he knew. The way he looked at her now made her feel that way. He seemed to understand and let out a deep breath. "I'd better see to him." He said, then moced towards d'Artagnan before anyone else saw him. Jacqueline got up and walked from the room/ she couldn't stand these men, but she couldn't believe that d'Artagnan was going along with them. They were taking over in the worst possible way and her true love was transforming before her eyes. The worst part of all was that she couldn't do anything to stop it. She left the room,, ignoring d'Artagnan`s pleading look and the hand he had outstretched. She went to her bedroom and closed the door behind her, flopping down on her bed and burying her face in her pillow. Emotions overcame her and she let out all of the tears she had hidden all night. And with that, the last bit of sun caressed tyhe horizon for the final time that evening.

_Author`s Note: Waddid I tell ya? DRAMA, DRAMA, DRAMA! I always have to add something in each of my stories. Sorry if any of you didn't like this chapeter but it's better than the alternative; I usually kill off some of my characters when it seems like a happy part. Anyhow, I promise the next one'll be better. Please review!_


	5. Pleads for Forgiveness

CHAPTER FIVE: Pleads for Forgiveness

Jacqueline awoke the next morning and was surprised to see that d'Artagnan was not in his bed. She was glad that the had not come back from Siroc's lab and was happy to have her own room to prepare herself for the coming day. She knew that he would want to speak to her. They both would. Siroc didn't know what had happened. Just that she had punched her friend and fellow musketeer while he was drunk. At least, she hadn't told him the truth. But d'Artagnan was so drunk that he could have said anything to anyone. Thank goodness Siroc had stepped in before he had the chance.

She got ready slowly. She was in no rush to meet him in the halls. She didn't want to speak to him this soon. She needed time to cool down. Jacqueline knew that he hadn't meant the things he'd done the night before; he was drunk. But that still didn't excuse him. He had to have had some knowledge of the situation; he wasn't totally faultless.

She left her room quietly and made her way outside. Ramon was waiting for her; they had patrol together that morning and she was happy for the excuse to leave the garrison. They rode along in silence for a while and then Ramon let out a soft chuckle. "Have you seen d'Artagnan this morning, amigo? It seems he had some sort of run-in with some men last night. He doesn't remember who they were, just that he made them mad enough to hit him. He claims that he was drunk and upset them. He ended up staggering back with a black eye. Siroc found him and brought him to the lab for the night so that he wouldn't wake you up. He was still in there when I checked in before we left." Jacqueline smiled at him and faked a surprised laugh. Except that she truly _was _surprised. Why had they covered for her like that? D'Artagnan could have ratted her out, even if he just said that "Jacques" had done it. But no, the two men had figured out a scenario that would leave her out of it completely. Unless d'Artagnan really _didn't _have any idea who had hit him. Perhaps the cover-up was all Siroc's doing.

She spent the rest of the patrol wondering about the situation and how this tale had unfolded. When they returned to the barracks, she went off in search of Siroc, while Ramon went off in search of food, his stomach once again getting the better of him.

Siroc was alone in his lab when she found him. He was thinking about Jacqueline. He had discovered her secret a long time ago but still hadn't told her. Now he realized he wasn't the only one. He felt that everyone was entitled to their secrets. His own life before the musketeers was something he never shared with his comrades and he didn't blame her for keeping her story a secret, too. Even though he was never a fugitive, nor had he ever killed one of Mazarin's captains, he still felt like they both shared something the others would never understand. He pitied Jacqueline and was sorry that she had to endure everything alone. He had seen how much d'Artagnan had to drink the night before but hadn't stopped him from leaving the barracks after Jacqueline. He knew that his friends were very close and never could have anticipated the night ending as it did. After discovering that d'Artagnan too shared her secret, Siroc had realized the gist of what happened outside between the two of them. He knew now that d'Artagnan was in love with Jacqueline but that she may not reciprocate those feelings as easily as she might have before.

When he looked up as she entered, Jacqueline saw right away that he knew. She had someone else to share her secret with now and it both worried and excited her at the same time. One more person to talk openly with and one more person to share in the responsibility should she be found out. She found those tears in her eyes once more and, though none of them spilled over, Siroc noticed them there, too. He walked over to her, placed his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "Don't worry," he said, reading her thoughts. "I'll never tell". She smiled and let him lead her over to the table at the other end of the room.

He told her that d'Artagnan had awoken that morning without any recollection of anything except their conversation. He had been so upset with himself that he decided to go for a ride through the woods. He admitted to Siroc that he loved Jacqueline and told him of the night's events. D'Artagnan still wasn't back and they didn't expect him for a while. He needed to clear his head.

After a while, Jacqueline thanked Siroc and retreated to her own room. Hers and d'Artagnan's. Siroc was right; the handsome musketeer didn't come back until late that afternoon. When he did, he hurried to his room before he had to face Jacqueline. He felt guilty about the things he had done and, even after all that riding, still didn't know what to say to her. He backed into the room silently and closed the door. When he turned around he was surprised to see Jacqueline's sleeping form on her bed across from him. She looked so peaceful, so comfortable. He touched his eye, which was still numb from the incident between them. He told himself to leave but couldn't. Instead, he went to sit by the window. He thought of another night, another time when Jacqueline was happy. When she had said she loved him, d'Artagnan had never felt better. Now he felt like scum. He couldn't believe that he had done anything to make her feel uncomfortable only hours after earning her complete trust. Now he'd be lucky if she ever spoke to him again.

There was a knock at the door and Ramon entered, carrying a letter for Jacqueline. D'Artagnan quickly checked again to make sure Jacqueline was turned away from the door. He felt sorry for Ramon, too. The only one of them who was still in the dark about her. Would he take the news as well as Siroc were he ever to discover the truth? Or would he be as upset as Jacqueline was last night? No, Ramon was her friend; he would understand. When Jacqueline was ready, he would know. D'Artagnan thanked his friend and closed the door. He placed the letter on the table where he had been sitting seconds before. There was a soft moan from Jacqueline and she began to stir. D'Artagnan knew that he should leave, but he suddenly couldn't find the strength to move from the spot. She sat up and looked around, surprised that she had been able to sleep at all. She paused when she saw the man at the window.

They watched each other for a moment and then d'Artagnan spoke. "Jacqueline, I am _so _sorry. I love you and never meant to hurt you. You have to believe that I didn't plan on doing what I did last night. I was drunk and I know that's no excuse, but I really am sorry." D'Artagnan felt his throat tighten and he had a pleading look in his eyes. Jacqueline could see that he was sorry but she was still haunted by his actions. All she could see when she closed her eyes was his tall figure coming towards her, forcing her against him. She couldn't stand it. She looked instead at the floor. D'Artagnan felt tears in his eyes for the second time in his life – the first had been the day his mother died. He had finally found the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with and he had ruined it. One stupid, drunken night and he had ended any hopes he had of creating a life with this woman. At that moment he vowed never to drink too much again. Jacqueline couldn't even look at him and he knew that there was nothing he could do to make her forgive him.

He turned to leave, not wanting her to see his weakness. The sound of her voice stopped him and he paused, watching the door with his back to Jacqueline. "D'Artagnan, I just want you to know that you hurt me. I don't think you'll ever understand how much. But despite all the things you did last night, I know that you love me. You told me the other day that nothing could ever come between us and I'd like to think that's true. I'm willing to give you another chance but you have to promise me that nothing like that will ever happen again." He couldn't believe it. He turned to look at her, not caring about the tears rolling down his cheeks. Jacqueline noticed them and walked up to him, wiping them away. He pulled her towards him and hugged her tighter than ever, burying his face in her hair. She laughed and kissed his wet cheek. He put her down and looked into her eyes for a long moment. "I'm sorry, Jacqueline." "I know," she replied. And he kissed her once again.

_Author's Note: Ok, so it was a little corny. I never said it wouldn't be. Anyway, the next chapter is gonna be a long one, I think. I am writing it right now and I think I may have quite a bit to talk about in it. I have to go to work soon though (my second day on the job) so I'm not going to be able to finish it tonight. Please be patient, though. I promise it'll be interesting and, as you saw before, I always keep my promises! Please review!_


	6. Family for Jacques LePont

CHAPTER SIX: Family for Jacques LePont

A few minutes later, the two sat on the edge of d'Artagnan's bed, talking. He suddenly remembered the letter on the table and he sat silently as she read it, first to herself and then to him. It was from a young girl named Madeleine. She claimed to be Jacques' kin and wanted to meet with him. Jacqueline was startled. Jacques LePont wasn't real. How could this young woman be related to him? There was no way she would have been able to tie her family to Jacqueline. "What are you going to do?" D'Artagnan was a little worried. What if it was some sort of trap? He voiced this thought aloud and Jacqueline remained silent. She finally decided that she would take her chances. There was only one way to solve this mystery and she planned on doing just that. D'Artagnan tried to argue with her but she had already made up her mind. He settled for promising to go with her instead. It was the least he could do for Jacqueline after she had forgiven him.

So that night they gathered some provisions and packed their horses. They had told Duval they were going to deliver a letter that needed to be seen in the right hands by them personally and Duval, being too distracted by all of his new recruits and numerous complaints already submitted about them from the people of Paris, agreed. They told Siroc and Ramon about the letter and Jacqueline later spoke to Siroc alone. He too thought it was probably a trap but agreed that there was only one way to prove its falsehood. He too would be coming along. Jacqueline thought about Ramon after their discussion. He would figure out that they were up to something when all three of them snuck off without him. She decided to tell him the truth. She approached his door and slowly lifted her hand to knock. When Ramon answered, she found that she couldn't speak. There was no way she could tell him right now; she wasn't ready yet. Instead, she invited him to come along with them, deciding she'd tell him later.

But as they rode along, later seemed to get further and further away. She found comfort in the thought that both Siroc and d'Artagnan knew her secret, but feared to bring another friend into the loop. Even one as close to her as Ramon. It wasn't for her own safety, though; it was for his. Just as she had been in Siroc's case, Jacqueline was disturbed at the thought of the responsibility it may bring. The more people who were in on the charade, the more people who would be sentenced should her secret ever be discovered. She loved these three men as she did her own brother and wanted to avoid bringing any type of harm to them on her account.

Trees and meadows were a blur to the four riders as they continued on their way. D'Artagnan had cleverly thought to pack extra provisions and, after stopping and consuming nearly half of the supplies on the trip up, all of his companions were grateful; Ramon in particular.

Siroc noticed Jacqueline and d'Artagnan exchanging glances every once in a while and figured he and Ramon should give them space to talk. They gradually increased their pace until they were far enough ahead to allow the other two time to speak privately. Of course, all Ramon knew was that Siroc bet him that he couldn't beat him to their destination and he could really use some extra money.

D'Artagnan was grateful that Siroc had understood their need to speak alone. There was still so much that he wanted to say to Jacqueline. He wanted to tell her once again that he was sorry for everything he had done and not done and wanted her to forgive him entirely. Something he knew wouldn't be too easy for her to do.

Jacqueline knew that it upset Siroc to see two of his best friends being awkward around each other and she was happy that he wanted to help, but there was really nothing she needed to say to d'Artagnan at the moment. Or, more correctly, nothing she _wanted _to say; there was plenty she _needed _to. She knew that d'Artagnan wanted to talk to her, that he wanted her to forgive him. He knew as well as she did that she wasn't able to accept his apology completely yet. But he couldn't blame her. He had gotten drunk and carried away and it would probably take a while for her to get past it. She had accepted him back into her life as a friend – and maybe even more than that – but she was still keeping an arms-length between them. She was afraid to get close to him again. That's what pained him the most: seeing that she couldn't – or wouldn't – trust him.

They rode along in silence, both having so much to say but saying nothing instead. They didn't know which would be harder: telling the other exactly how they felt, or remaining silent and keeping it all inside. They chose the latter. By the time they arrived in Claiermont, their thoughts were entirely distracted and they still hadn't voiced a word. The lush green hills that made up this part of the country took their breath away and all of them forgot their fears and concerns momentarily. Jacqueline heard d'Artagnan whistle his approval at the sight and couldn't help agreeing; it was beautiful. Wildflowers grew all around the base of each hill and purple forget-me-nots transformed patched of grass into pools of colour.

They continued down the path that had been carved out by carriage wheels and looked about in unison. They were still in awe when they reached the tiny stone house that was partially hidden in a valley. Smoke billowed out the chimney, despite the warm temperature outdoors. At once, the door swung open and a young woman came towards them. She appeared to be in her early twenties, though the lines that appeared on her forehead as she smiled suggested otherwise. She was wearing a poppy-red dress and a smile that could warm even the hardest of hearts. The musketeers dismounted as she approached and Jacqueline was surprised to see that the girl wasn't at all startled to see her instead of her supposed kin. Her suspicion grew further when the girl embraced her and spoke her delight at seeing Jacques after all these years. It was indeed a strange scene to the four travellers; especially to Jacqueline, who noticed something familiar in this lady. Perhaps she was just thinking of the women in Paris who swooned at the sight of any uniformed man who came their way.

But as the afternoon progressed, Jacqueline grew more and more suspicious. They were gathered around a small table in the dining room. She was squeezed in between Siroc and d'Artagnan and their knees bumped every once in a while. It reminded Jacqueline of the evenings spent around her own table back at home when her parents were still alive. Thinking about her family made her uneasy and Jacqueline excused herself. She left the house and sat down on the front stoop. There she again began to reminisce and decided it was even worse out here. She was about to get up and return to the cramped kitchen when the door opened behind her and footsteps approached. She figured it was just d'Artagnan and put on a fake smile so that he wouldn't be worried about her again. But when she turned around, Jacqueline saw that she had been mistaken. It wasn't d'Artagnan's form she saw, but rather Madeleine's. The young girl stood before her and smiled down. Jacqueline rose so that she again was able to look down at her rather than up. She felt more comfortable when she had the upper hand. Madeleine's smile never wavered. She finally broke the silence with a small laugh.

"Well, I guess we've finally met, then. You know, I have heard so much about you, _Jacques LePont_." Jacqueline didn't like the way she said the name of her alter ego. It seemed as though she knew something she shouldn't. Like the fact that Jacques didn't exist. She started to say something, but Madeleine cut her off. "I know you've probably never heard of me, Jacqueline, but I really _am _related to you." Jacqueline wouldn't have thought it possible, but the girl's smile widened even more. "But...how...I mean, I don't understand." She let out a couple fake coughs, trying to hold onto her male voice despite her surprise. "And who's Jacqueline?" Madeleine laughed and Jacqueline wondered how she had discovered this information. Was she really who she said she was? Or was this some sort of ploy Mazarin had come up with to get her to reveal the truth? Either way, there was no way she was going to admit anything to this young woman. Madeleine seemed to realize this and continued her little speech. "My name is Madeleine Malo-Roget." Jacqueline inhaled at the mention of her family name. Clearly, this girl could have easily found out Jacqueline's last name, but what about 'Malo'? That was a name she had not heard for over thirteen years; the name of her father's brother-in-law. He was a horrible man who robbed his own family whenever he had the chance. Her father had broken off all ties with the man and, unfortunately, his sister as well. Nobody knew of the families' relationship and none could ever find out. Unless...unless they really _were _family. Jacqueline still wouldn't believe it. This girl looked nothing like the portraits she had seen of her aunt and she had yet to prove her story. She decided not to say anything, simply to let this girl ramble on. When she was finished, Jacqueline would apologize for having wasted her time and tell her she was mistaken. That was the only way she could both hear the whole story _and_ keep her identity a secret at the same time. At least, that is what she had planned on doing. But not everything always goes according to plan, as Jacqueline now well knew.

_Author's Note: I have FINALLY caught up with this so look out for more updates coming soon! It may take me a couple days to write and post the next chapters but I promise they're on their way. And for everyone who keeps asking about my other stories, I am working on a few chapters for those as well so don't worry! Please review!_


	7. Weaving an Unending Web

CHAPTER SEVEN: Weaving an Unending Web

_Alright, so I lost my password and then just got distracted with the comings and goings of life. I can't promise you that I'll have this story finished SOON, but I WILL try. Been receiving a lot of reviews on this story in particular lately so thought I'd try harder to find a way back into my account...and here I am. Thanks for your patience!_

Jacqueline couldn't stop thinking of her conversation with Madeleine. Everything she had said about their families lined up with the facts she had already learned from her father. Of course, she still refused to admit that to her supposed cousin. She had, as she had planned, explained to Madeleine that she was sorry for her confusion, but that she really did have the wrong person. The woman simply smiled and placed a knowing hand on Jacqueline's shoulder. "I understand what it means to you to admit who you truly are, Jacqueline. You have made a new life for yourself as Jacques LePont. A safe one. But I know that one day you will see that being true to yourself is more important. When that day comes, know that you will always be safe here with me." With that, Madeleine had turned and walked back inside, not allowing Jacqueline any time to respond. Not that it would have made a difference. Jacqueline couldn't have spoken if she'd tried. She was too shocked – too confused – to form the words she knew she should say.

D'Artagnan's form soon replaced Madeleine's in the doorway. She just looked at him, still unable to speak. But he understood. As always, d'Artagnan could sense her thoughts and feelings with a mere look. He raised his eyebrows in surprise but said nothing. After a couple of moments, Jacqueline announced that they should be on their way and the two returned to the group to say their goodbyes. As they were mounting their horses, Madeleine came up beside Jacqueline and spoke quietly enough so that only she could hear. "From your mother" she said, handing her a small package wrapped in cloth. Jacqueline stared down at it and when she lifted her head to deny it – or to ask what it was...Jacqueline wasn't entirely sure which she intended to do – Madeleine was already standing back on her doorstep. Jacqueline mounted and as the four began their journey home, Madeleine called after them: "Remember, Jacques, secrets are safe with family."

"What was all that about?" Ramon asked when they were a few miles from Madeleine's home. She gave him a non-committal answer, realizing this web of lies was about to get even more tangled from here on in.

_Ok, so probably not the best chapter to start back up on but it will get better._


	8. Too Many Decisions

CHAPTER EIGHT: Too Many Decisions

When they finally returned to the barracks that evening, they were all a little exhausted. Ramon left in search of food, claiming anything he'd eaten that day had surely dissolved by now. Jacqueline felt guilty about feeling relieved as he left, but she had some things she needed to discuss with Siroc and d'Artagnan. They retired into his lab and she described her conversation with Madeleine to the two men who now shared her deepest secret.

Siroc was glad she still hadn't given in and revealed herself to this "cousin". He didn't trust her. He couldn't quite place his finger on it, but he sensed that something was wrong. Jacqueline's own brother wouldn't have known where she was if she hadn't told him herself. So how had Madeleine discovered her whereabouts – and her alias? _No, _he thought to himself, _none of this makes any sense_. He still had the handkerchief that Madeleine had wrapped fresh cookies in for their ride home. His newest device would help him lift a fingerprint from it. He wasn't entirely sure what he'd do with it from there, but at least it was a start.

Siroc assured her everything was fine, that she should just get some rest and they'd figure out what to do in the morning. Jacqueline, comfortable with that decision, let her weariness get the better of her and headed off to her room. D'Artagnan lingered for a second.

"Siroc, something isn't right about all this."

"You took the words right out of my mouth, friend. But what are we going to do about it?"

"I don't know yet. I'll think of something. But until then, don't mention our concerns to Jacqueline."

D'Artagnan entered his and Jacqueline's room to find her sitting on the edge of her bed. He could make out the feint colour under her eyes that gave away how tired she truly was. But he also understood what kept her awake. This was a lot to take in. Especially with her secret. Someone else knew; someone Jacqueline hadn't told and someone he still wasn't sure they could trust. He went over and sat beside her on the bed.

Jacqueline saw d'Artagnan come in and sit down beside her but she didn't look up. Where anyone else would have just seen a stained brown floorboard, Jacqueline was seeing a flashback of the day's events. It still didn't make any sense to her. No matter how much she had denied her identity to this woman, she somehow knew Jacqueline's biggest secret. Someone else now held her very life in their hands. And she didn't like it one bit.

D'Artagnan saw the worry in her face and took her hand in both of his. "Jacqueline, listen to me. You admitted nothing. I know that doesn't mean much, but it's something. This woman – we will find out the truth, I promise you. I will do everything I can to find out where she comes from." She looked up at him then. A feint smile reached her lips. This was the d'Artagnan she knew. She could see he was worried about her – worried FOR her, too. It was more than just having someone else know her secret and he understood that.

"Jacqueline," he paused for a moment before continuing. The worry in his eyes made her a little uneasy and she braced herself for what he was about to say. "What you need to think about now, besides whether or not Madeleine can be trusted, is what you're going to do if this all turns out to be the truth." He could tell she didn't understand what he was getting at and he took a deep breath before continuing. "If Madeleine really is who she claims to be, there is a whole new chance for you. You joined the musketeers because you wanted revenge, yes, but you also knew it was a place you would be safe. If she really is your cousin, Jacqueline..." Now she was beginning to understand his meaning and tried to interrupt, but he stopped her. "Jacqueline, I'm serious. I know you feel like this is home now, but you still aren't safe here. You know Mazarin has it out for us musketeers and whether we like it or not, we are always being watched. I know how hard it is for you every day, hiding everything just to survive. Yes, you have Siroc and me to help you, to look out for you, and I know you're more than capable of taking care of yourself, but none of us will be able to stop Mazarin if your secret is ever found out. Jacqueline, if Madeleine is telling the truth, you could go with her. You could leave here and be safe and still not be alone." He looked at her and it was silent again for a long moment.

"You want me to leave?"

"Cherie, of course I don't want you to leave." Jacqueline's eyes suddenly filled with tears again. He had never used any form of endearment like that before and it just made his words all the more serious. Jacuqleine understood what he was saying. This could be her chance for a normal life. If Madeleine really was her cousin – and could be trusted – Jacqueline could easily be safe with her. Nobody knew of her family's connections to the Malos and Mazarin wasn't about to waste his time digging _that _deep into the history of some French woman, even if she did murder his captain. He had bigger schemes to deal with than that. She would be safe with Madeleine. But it also meant leaving the musketeers. She couldn't imagine her life without her friends, even after such a short time. Siroc and Ramon...she loved them like family. And d'Artagnan...she looked over at him now and the first of her tears rolled down her cheek. He stopped it's trail with his finger.

"Jacqueline, I want more that anything for you to be safe. Every day I fear for you. Look how close you came to sharing a room with Reme. It isn't safe, even here." He kissed her forehead and stood. "I'm going to take a walk. Try to get some sleep".

When he left the room, Jacqueline sat still for a minute. She didn't know what to make of everything that had happened in just one day. Suddenly she remembered the package that Madeleine handed to her as she left. She stood and walked to her jacket, which was draped over one of the chairs that still sat where d'Artagnan had placed them by the window a couple days before. She smiled briefly at the memory of that night. She had found someone to trust – someone to love – in d'Artagnan and now she may leave him – and everything else – behind. In just a few months, she had made this place her home. And now, if Madeleine spoke the truth, she may be leaving it all behind and losing "home" once more. Since the death of her parents and Gerard's escape, Jacqueline hadn't let anyone else in. But somehow the three men she had come to love had snuck their way into her heart and she couldn't imaging leaving them behind for good.

She returned to the bed and placed the package in her lap. Slowly, she unwrapped it and lifted out its contents. There was a golden chain with a small locket attached. A cursive "R" was carved into it. Jacqueline inhaled sharply. She recognized this locket. Her grandmother – her father's mother – had given it to her own mother as a wedding present. Jacqueline's mother had worn it for as long as she could remember. No, that wasn't true. It had gone missing shortly before her death. Jacqueline stood up, remembering. The handkerchief slid off her lap as she stood and a soft noise made her look down. A key lay beside it on the wooden floor. She picked it up and examined it. She had never known her family to own such a key. Even the door to their home had a bolt rather than a lock. _Why would Madeleine give me a key and no explanation?_ She wondered. Madeleine had said it was from her mother. Did she just mean the locket and had simply wrapped the key in there by mistake? No, even if she still couldn't trust her cousin, she could tell she was not a foolish woman. The key was put their intentionally, but why?

_I don't entirely remember where I wanted this story to go when I started it six years ago. I probably wasn't even sure back then. So I hope these twists and turns haven't made you lose interest yet. Please give me your feedback! It'll help me decide what happens next _


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